


Perfect

by SuccubustyKisses



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Hairdresser Keith, Just soft boys for once, M/M, blogger lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 16:39:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15867564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuccubustyKisses/pseuds/SuccubustyKisses
Summary: She huffed out a quick laugh. “Oh I heard you were a flirt. Sit, I’ll go tell Keith you’re-““I heard the bell, mom.” A man stood at the door, leaning against the dark cherry frame, his dark eyes shifting from the woman to Lance. His dark hair was tucked behind ears lined with multiple sparkling piercings, stopping about mid neck, and he wore ripped jeans tucked into boots and a black tank top. Both his pants and shirt had spots and smears from bleach discoloring them. “Damn, your hair looks like shit.”Lance gasped, his hands flying up to his hair instinctually. “Well excuse me, Asshole McMullet! Why else would I be here if not to fix that?”The woman was chuckling now as she held up her hand ticking off her fingers. “Waxing, facial, mud bath, sauna, massage, hell we even do basic botox and plastic surgery here.”“Wait so this house is like an entire day spa?” Lance looked around the darkly colored waiting room. “A gothic day spa. Can I get a massage too?”The woman chuckled, walking out of the room she stopped at the door to rest a hand mullet-man’s shoulder. “Try to play nice, Keith.”





	Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!   
> This is a gift for Softy who can be found at dabsoftboi on tumblr!! I hope you like it, love!

Lance groaned, looking at his reflection in the mirror. The way his hair curled down towards his shoulders and into his eyes. It didn’t matter how good his skin care routine was, how well he took care of his body, didn’t matter that he worked out and went to the gym multiple times a week. All he could see was his hair. The too-long curls so different from his comfortable short cut, the way his bangs kept falling into his eyes. This was not his hair. This was a disaster. 

Ever since his usual hairdresser retired Lance had trouble. Months of his hair cut uneven, too short, too long, hell one woman burned his scalp trying to shampoo it. He was tired, maybe he should just go to fashion school and learn how to cut his own hair. He was desperate. He just wanted to feel good about himself again. So desperate in fact that he went to the public asking for recommendations on his blog. Thankfully not having to supply a picture of the travesty that used to be his hair to get recommendations rolling in. 

One place kept popping up from other local fashion bloggers, a small private place called Marmora. Apparently the only way to get in was through recommendation, and you had to make your appointments weeks in advance. Lucky for Lance he had a way with the people and was able to get one of those rare recommendations from PinkLionPrincess who was apparently named Allura. She was even kind enough to meet him at a café and hand deliver the card he needed to get in. Lance didn’t miss the way she kept eyeing his hair. God it was embarrassing. 

He was thankful to Allura for not outing his horrendous appearance to the public, but even more so for the card in his hand. Black with a metallic blue print, a pair of scissors opened in the top corner and a name and phone number along with a handwritten note in metallic silver ink. Allura informed him that was his password. _Yorak. Was that even a word?_

Putting the strangeness of all of it aside Lance was able to call and make an appointment after butchering the pronunciation of Yorak and getting laughed at by the man on the other end. An appointment that, thankfully, was for today. Pulling his hair back he tied it at his nape, frowning at his bangs. Digging around he found the clips band he used to hold his hair back while he uses his face masks and puts it on. Sighing one more time at his reflection he turns to head out the door. 

_The sooner I get to this Marmora place the sooner I can be myself again._

* * *

Marmora, as it turned out, wasn’t a salon. It was a house. A large darkly painted house with a wrap-around porch. At first Lance thought he was at the wrong place until he saw the name on the mailbox. _Marmora_. Nodding to himself he walks up the path through the well-trimmed grass and to the door, pressing the bell. 

The door whipped open within the minute a tall woman standing in it shooting a glare down at him. Her hair was purple, layered over a bright pink that ran down to her waist pulled at her nape in twin tails. Lance swallowed down his nerves and looked up into her dark eyes. “Hi, I uh… Have an appointment? My password was… Yorak?” 

The woman’s dark painted lips turn up into an almost knowing smile almost instantly and she grabs his arm practically yanking him in the door and slamming it behind him. “Lance, it’s so nice to finally put a face to the name. You’re early, my son hasn’t finished with Rolo yet.” 

Lured by the friendly greeting Lance follows the woman down the hall into a room painted a soft Lavender with plush leather seats. “I do prefer to be early than late. Wait, your son will be doing my hair?” He mocked checking her up and down. “Damn with how young you are he must be like, Five! A hairdressing genius.” 

She snorted a quick laugh. “Oh I heard you were a flirt. Sit, I’ll go tell Keith you’re-“

“I heard the bell, mom.” A man stood at the door, leaning against the dark cherry frame, his dark eyes shifting from the woman to Lance. His dark hair was tucked behind ears lined with multiple sparkling piercings, stopping about mid neck, and he wore ripped jeans tucked into boots and a black tank top. Both his pants and shirt had spots and smears from bleach discoloring them. “Damn, your hair looks like shit.”

Lance gasped, his hands flying up to his hair instinctually. “Well excuse me, Asshole McMullet! Why else would I be here if not to fix that?”

The woman was chuckling now as she held up her hand ticking off her fingers. “Waxing, facial, mud bath, sauna, massage, hell we even do basic botox and plastic surgery here.”

“Wait so this house is like an entire day spa?” Lance looked around the darkly colored waiting room. “A gothic day spa. Can I get a massage too?” 

The woman chuckled, walking out of the room she stopped at the door to rest a hand mullet-man’s shoulder. “Try to play nice, Keith.” 

Mullet scoffed, pushing off the door. “You ready, Lance?”

“Wait wait wait. _you’re_ doing my hair?” Lance frowned, looking him over from boot to mullet. He wasn’t going to admit that he actually made a mullet look good. “I already have a mullet, what more could you possibly do?” 

Keith scoffed, reaching out with quick hands he grabbed the front of Lance’s shirt and yanked him forward to glare in his face. “Do you want to get your pretty little face back on the internet, or would you rather I kick your inconsiderate ass out?” 

Lance’s eyes flicked between Keith’s eyes, too close to not notice their deep violet shade or the thick lashes lining them perfectly. How can someone so crass be so pretty? “Please.” He exhaled slowly, looking down with a pout. “If you can help me, please. I just want to look like me again.”

The scowl faded, replaced with a look Lance couldn’t decipher. Violet eyes shifted down, then back up before Lance is released and Keith turns around. “Lets go, Lance. The sooner we do this, the sooner you can get back to blogging.” They moved down the hall and into a room painted a deep crimson red. Lance whistled low as he looked around. It really was like a private salon, it had everything one would need to tend to someone’s hair, even the fancy chair that raises up and an entire wall that was a giant mirror. “My name is Keith, and I’ll be taking care of you today.”

Lance chuckled. “We already got into a fight, Keith. I think we’re past pleasant greetings. Plus I heard your name from your mom, and you must know mine from making the appointment.” He watched from the mirror as Keith froze behind him, one hand on his head, holding back his bangs, as he held a large clip with the other. A soft bright flush spread up his neck. 

_Interesting._

Keith recovered quickly, jerking his head to look to the side and pinning his bangs back on the top of his head. “Come on, Lance. Lets get your hair back to normal.” Keith waved his hand to the seat leaning back in front of him. Nodding Lance moved over to sit, shooting Keith a wink when he draped the waterproof black barber’s cape. Keith frowned, cheeks darkening as he jerked his head to look to the side. 

_cute_

“So, Keith.” Lance gave his most winning smile. “What are you going to do to me?” 

Keith snorted in indignation, quickly pulling the band off Lance’s head and setting it on the table before carefully untying the back. “I’m not the banter type, Lance. No one in Marmora is.” He pushed on Lance’s shoulder, shooting a smug look down at him. “But I’m sure you have enough banter in you for the both of us.” 

The water turned on just over his head and Lance leaned back further to watch it run into the sink. A chuckle rumbled out of Keith’s chest as his hand moved under the running water. Lance rolled his eyes back up watching the satisfied nod of Keith’s head. “You gonna fry my skull, mullet?”

“And listen to you whine about it? No thank you.” The water ran over Lance’s hair, fingers running through his hair after it, carefully pulling out any tangles. Lance practically melted at the soft touch. The water moved away and a second hand joined the other, skilled fingers massaging blueberry scented lather into his hair. 

Lance groaned, audibly sighing as Keith’s fingers worked through his too-long locks, “oh wow, Keith. If the rest of you is as magical as your fingers your girlfriend is one lucky girl.” A choking noise sounded from above him causing Lance to peek one eye open to look up at Keith’s bright red face. “Or is it a lucky guy?” 

Water sprayed in Lance’s face causing him to gasp trying to shoot up in the chair but a hand on his chest easily held him down. The water shifted, moving back up to his hair. “You’re too nosey.” Keith mumbled, his hand running up Lance’s chest, fingers sliding along his neck sending a shiver down his spine before going back into his hair to help rinse out the lather. 

Lance pouted, up at Keith who just rolled his eyes and smacked his shoulder. “Sit up, idiot, and move to the cutting chair. You look like a drowned cat.” 

“Don’t you know you’re supposed to treat someone as perfect as I am with love and respect.” Lance drug his feet over to the chair flopping down into it, gripping the arms when Keith quickly whirled him around to face away from the mirror. “Hey!”

Keith leaned down, his breath tickling Lance’s ear. “When I’m done with you you’ll be the one to giving me love and respect, pretty boy. So keep your nose out of my business and let me take care of you.” Lance blushed bright red, words caught in his throat as Keith pushed back up, snatching a comb and his scissors and getting to work. Ignoring the blush he felt lingering on his cheeks Lance closed his eyes, relaxing into the soothing pull of his hair with the rhythmic snip of the scissors. 

Too quickly the cutting stopped and Lance heard the click of the scissors being placed on the table. The warmth of the hair dryer hit his neck as Keith’s magic fingers returned to his hair, combing through the much shorter strands now. Lance sighed loudly, a content smile on his face as Keith moved around to the front, fingers brushing the hair back from his face, softly fluffing it. The hot air stopped and Lance opened his eyes to watch Keith in front of him. He stood back, one hand crossed over his waist as the other rested on his chin. 

“So? What’s the verdict?”

Keith’s smile was bright, lighting up his whole face. “It’s perfect again.” He reached out whirling Lance around to face the mirror, with an exaggerated flourish he removed the cape from Lance’s shoulders, sending wet curls flying as Lance stared at his reflection. 

It was just like he used to wear it, even the curls he liked in front of his ears were perfect. “Keith! You did it!!” Lance jumped from the chair turning his head this way and that, running his fingers through his hair to watch it fall perfectly in place. “Please tell me you’re accepting permanent customers, Keith. Because I need to keep you in my life.” 

Keith’s smile was smug as he pulled the clip from his own hair, tossing it aside he stepped forward into Lance’s personal space, backing him into the mirror. “We can arrange appointments for you Lance.” His hand moved to Lance’s slipping something inside of it. “But I’m off on Thursdays and Sundays.” 

Lance nodded, swallowing hard around a sudden dry throat as Keith’s eyes darted down then back up again. Before Lance could process it Keith was pushing off and walking out the door. “You can make an appointment with my mom, Lance. I hope to see you again soon, Blue.”

Letting out a shuddering breath Lance looked down at the content in his hand, a piece of paper with a number scratched across it. Grinning Lance pocketed the number, not wanting to seem too eager and deciding to wait before he shot a message. Maybe after he recorded his return video to post. His fans have been worried, patiently awaiting his return, and SharpshotBlue was not one to disappoint his fans. Even the ones with mullets.

**Author's Note:**

> Your comments and Kudos keep me fueled! If you like my work and want to help support me maybe hop over to tumblr and check me out under Succubustykisses!


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